CHAPTER XXXVIII.
It was evening; but one day remained to pass away before the arrival ofthat appointed for the wager of battle; and all Nottingham had been inhurry and confusion with the excitement of the approaching spectacle.The residence of the King in the Castle had already filled the townfuller than it was ever known to be before; but now a still greaterinflux of people poured into it from all the country round, to witnessa transaction, which combined all the splendor and display of one ofthe military pageants of the day with the interest of a deep tragedy.The citizens had flocked out of the town during the morning, to see thepreparation of the lists; parties of pleasure had been made to the spotwhere the deadly struggle was to take place; and mirth and merrimenthad surrounded the scene, where two fellow-creatures were soon toappear armed for mutual destruction--where bright hopes and fairprospects were to be blighted, and death and sorrow to share thevictory.
No tidings had been received by Hugh de Monthermer from his forestfriends. No circumstance had transpired which could aid him in provinghis innocence, or could fix the guilt upon another. Prince Edward wasevidently anxious and uneasy; and the only person who seemed pleasedwith the whole affair was the King himself, who, affecting a dignifiedgrace and calmness and declaring that he assumed the young Lord ofMonthermer to be innocent till he was proved guilty, treated him withcourtesy, and even with distinction. It was the pampering of agladiator before sending him into the arena; for the secret of Henry'sgood humour was, that he was pleased at the excitement, and satisfiedwith those who contributed to it.
Not to show favour, however--as one of the most favourite-riddenmonarchs that ever lived thought fit to term it, he sent expressly toinvite the young Earl of Ashby to repair with his train to NottinghamCastle, and partake of the royal hospitality before the combat; andAlured had already arrived, and taken possession of the apartmentsprepared for him.
He had twice met with Hugh de Monthermer, once in the hall, when manyothers were present, and once in the court when they were nearly alone.Their meeting had been watched by the frivolous and malicious, alwaysso numerous in courts, who hoped and expected to see some outburst ofangry feeling, which might afford amusement for the passing hour. Butin this they were altogether disappointed--the two adversaries salutedeach other with grave courtesy; and it was particularly remarked, thatAlured's fierce impetuosity and somewhat insolent pride were greatlysoftened down and moderated. Nay, more, when his eyes lighted upon Hughde Monthermer, the expression was more sad than stern, and some thoughtthat there was hesitation in it also.
"It is clear enough," said Sir Harry Grey to Sir William Geary--"it isclear enough, he doubts the truth of the charge he has made--he doesnot think the Monthermer guilty."
"He knows that some one must be guilty," answered the other, "and thatis generally enough for an Ashby, to make him vent his rage upon thefirst thing near."
"But what has become of his good cousin Dickon?" demanded Grey. "I havenot seen him all day, nor yesterday either."
"I suppose be keeps at Lindwell," replied Sir William Geary, "or elsehas gone to his new manor of Cottington. People look cold on him--Iknow not why."
"There are two or three reasons why," said Sir Harry Grey. "First, itis evident that this charge is of his hatching, and yet he puts thefighting part upon his cousin."
"And very wise, too!" exclaimed Sir William Geary. "First, because Hughde Monthermer would break his neck, as a man does a rabbit's with hislittle finger; next, because there is but one between him and theEarldom of Ashby, and a good lance and a fair field is very likely todiminish the number."
"Is it just possible," said Grey, "that he may have taken means todiminish the number already?"
Sir William Geary shrugged his shoulders significantly, but made noother answer, and the conversation dropped.
Such as it was, however, it was a fair specimen of many others thattook place in Nottingham that day. But Richard de Ashby heard them not,for he was many miles away, deep in conference with his companion,Ellerby, who remained to watch the progress of events, hidden in thewild and mountainous parts of Derbyshire.
Nevertheless, that night towards seven o'clock, when every one inNottingham had returned home from the sight-seeing and amusements ofthe day, and all was profoundly quiet, both in the castle and the town,two armourers, who sat burnishing a magnificent hauberk in the outerchamber of the young Earl of Ashby's apartments in Nottingham Castle,were interrupted by some one knocking at the door. In a loud voice theybade the visitor come in; and in a moment after, the brown face andhead of an old woman were thrust into the room, asking to see the Earlof Ashby.
The two men had been going on merrily with their work, giving nothought or heed to the bloody purposes which the weapons under theirhands were to be applied to, nor of the danger that their lord ran,should that linked shirt of mail prove insufficient to repel the lanceof an enemy. They looked up then as cheerfully as if the whole were amatter of sport, and one of them replied, "He will not receive you,good dame, seeing you are old and ugly. Had you been young and pretty,by my faith, you would have found admission right soon.--What is itthat you wish?"
"I wish to tell him," answered the old woman, "that he is wantedimmediately down at the house of Sir Richard de Ashby."
"Well--well," cried the man, "I will tell him. Get thee gone, and closethe door after thee, for the night wind is cold."
Thus saying, he went on with his work, and seemed to have noinclination to break off, for the purpose of carrying any messageswhatsoever.
"Come--come!" cried his companion, "you must tell my lord."
"Pooh, that will do an hour hence," he replied; "to-morrow morning willbe time enough, if I like it. What should Richard de Ashby want with mylord:--Borrow money, I dare say. Some Jew has got him by the throat,and wont let him go. There let him stay--nasty vermin!"
"Nay--nay, then I will go," said his brother armourer, rising, andproceeding into another chamber, where several yeomen and a page weresitting, to the latter of whom he delivered the message, and thenreturned to his work.
The young Earl of Ashby was seated in an inner room, with but onecompanion, when the old woman's commission was at length executed.
"Ay! I am glad to hear he has returned," he said, as the page closedthe door. "I wonder he comes not hither! but I will go and speak withhim. My mind misgives me, Sir Guy--my mind misgives me! And what yousay does not convince me. My sister knows better--Lucy is truth itself.Remember, sir, I have to swear that my quarrel is just--that I believe,so help, me, God! that my charge is true. I doubt it, Guy de Margan--Idoubt it. If you can give new proof--speak! But 'tis useless to repeatover and over again what I have heard before, and what has beenrefuted."
"It may be that your cousin, my lord, can furnish you with new proof,"said Guy de Margan. "'Tis on that account, perhaps, he has sent foryou."
"I will go directly," cried the Earl, starting up--"I will godirectly!--But where does he live in Nottingham?--I thought he was inthe castle with the rest, or at our lodging in the town.--Down at thehouse of Sir Richard de Ashby!--Where may that be, I wonder?"
"I can show you, my lord," answered Guy do Margan--"'tis half-a-milehence or more."
"Tell me--tell me," replied the Earl; "I will go by myself."
"I will put you in the way, my lord," said his companion, "and leaveyou when you are in the street.--You will never find it by yourself."
Giving him but little thanks for his courtesy, the young Earl strodeinto the ante-room; and with none but a page to carry his sword, andGuy de Margan by his side, issued forth into the court of the castle,and thence through the gates into the dark streets of Nottingham.
"Had you not better have a torch, my lord?" said Guy de Margan.
"No--no," replied the Earl, "'tis but that our eyes are not accustomedto the obscurity, We have no time to wait for torches; the hour ofsupper will be here anon."
"Down the first flight of steps, my lord," said Guy de Margan,
"let usnot miss the mouth of the alley--Oh, 'tis here!" and hurrying on with aquick step, the two gentlemen and their young attendant descended tothe lower part of the town, and entered the street in which Richard deAshby had hired the house we have so often mentioned.
When they had proceeded some way down it, the young Earl asked, witheven more than his usual impatience--"Are we not near it yet?"
"Yes, my good lord," replied Guy de Margan; "you can now find it foryourself, I doubt not. 'Tis the first small house standing back betweentwo large ones, with eaves shooting far over into the street."
"I shall find it!--I shall find it!" cried Alured de Ashby, "Goodnight, and thanks, Sir Guy. We shall meet again to-morrow."
With this short adieu, he took his way forward, and in his quick,impetuous haste, had well-nigh passed the house which he was seeking,but the boy pulled him by the sleeve, saying, "This must be it, mylord;" and looking round, he plunged into the dark, retreating nook inwhich it stood, and feeling for the door, struck sharply upon it withthe hilt of his dagger.
For near a minute there was no sound, and the young Earl was about toknock again, when a light, shining through the chinks, shewed him thatsomebody was coming. He drew back a step; and a moment after, the doorwas opened with a slow and deliberate hand, which suited ill with theyoung nobleman's impatient mood. The sight that he beheld, however,when his eyes recovered from the first glare of the light, struck himwith surprise, and calmed him also, by the effect of gentler feelingsthan those which had lately agitated his bosom.
It was the form of fair Kate Greenly that presented itself--it was herface that the rays of the lamp shone upon; but oh, what a change hadbeen wrought in that face, even within the last three days! Still moreterrible was the alteration since the Earl had last seen it, when hejested for a moment with his cousin's leman some months before inHereford. Then it had been bright and blooming, full of life andeagerness, with much of the loveliness which then characterized itdepending upon youth and high health. Now, though beauty stilllingered, and the fine line of the features could not be altered, yetthe face was sharp and pale and worn, the lips bloodless; and thebright, dark eyes, though shining, with almost preternatural lustre,had a fixed, stern look, no longer wild and sparkling, but full ofintense thought, and strong, yet painful purpose. The form, too, seemedshrunk and changed; the grace indeed remained, but the rounded contourof the limbs was withered and gone.
"Why, Kate," exclaimed the Earl--"why how now--what is this? You seemill."
"I seem what I am, my lord," replied Kate Greenly. "I am glad you arecome; your presence is much wanted."
"Where?" demanded the Earl. "What do you mean, my poor girl? Some newmishap, I warrant you. Where is my presence wanted, Kate?"
"I will show you, my lord," replied Kate Greenly, "if you will followme;" and she led the way up the stairs.
At the end of the first flight, the Earl paused, saying, "Is not Dickonhere, that he comes not forth?"
Kate gave him no direct answer, merely replying, "This way, mylord--this way, sir."
"He must be ill," thought the Earl, "and she, too, is ill, that isclear. 'Tis some fever, belike. I have heard there is one inNottingham."
At the top of the next flight, the girl laid her hand upon the latch ofa rough door, formed of unsmoothed wood, holding the lamp so as to givethe Earl light in his ascent. The moment after, she opened the door andentered, leading the way towards the foot of a small bed, by which wasburning a waxen taper.
The Earl followed, murmuring, "This is a poor place," but raised hiseyes as he approached the foot of the bed, and to his surprise, beheldthe ghastly face of a dead man, stretched out, with a sprig of hollyresting on his breast.
"Good Heaven!" he exclaimed.--"Who is this?"
"The murderer of your father!" replied Kate Greenly, without adding aword more.
Alured de Ashby clasped his hands, with deep and terrible emotion. Hismind at the moment paused not to inquire whether the tale were true orfalse; but flashing at once through, his heart and brain came thefeeling of wrath, even at the inanimate mass before him, for the deedthat had been done, mingled with grief and anxiety at having charged itupon another, and the memory of all the embarrassments which thatcharge must produce.
"The murderer of my father!" he said, "The murderer of my father--Isthat the murderer of my father!--Then Monthermer is innocent!"
"As innocent as yourself," replied Kate Greenly. "This is one of thosewho did the deed; but there were more than one, Hugh de Monthermer,however, was many a mile away, and there lies the man who struck thefirst blow. Look here!" she cried, and partly drawing down the sheet,she pointed to the wound upon the dead man's breast, saying, "Thereentered your father's sword; for the old man died gallantly, and sentone at least to his account."
"Ay, I remember," replied the Earl, thoughtfully, "they found his swordnaked and bloody--But how is this?" he continued, turning towards Kate,and gazing on her face. "You seem to know it all, as if you had beenpresent.--Now I perceive what makes you haggard and pale."
"'Tis seeing such sights as this," replied Kate Greenly--"ay, and manyanother sad cause besides. But you ask, how I know all this? I willtell you, Earl of Ashby: by taking down from that man's own lips, inhis dying moments, the confession of his crime. The priest adjured himto make full avowal of the truth, not only to the ear of the confessor,which could but benefit his own soul, but for the ear of justice, thatthe innocent might not be punished for the guilty. Such confession ashe did make, I myself wrote down, he signed it with his dying hand, andI and Father Mark were the witnesses thereunto. Here is the paper--readand satisfy yourself! The priest I have sent for--he will soon behere."
Alured de Ashby took the paper, and, by the light of the lamp held byKate Greenly, read the few words that it contained:--
"I do publicly acknowledge and confess," so ran the writing, whichfollowed exactly the broken words of the dying man; "that I, IngelramDighton, did, on the afternoon of Tuesday last, together with threeothers--no, I will not mention their names--who had come down with methe day before from the good city of London, lay wait for the Earl ofAshby, at a place called the Bull's Hawthorn. I struck at him first,but only wounded him; whereupon he drew his sword and plunged it intomy side, from which I am now dying. The Lord have mercy upon my soul!El----, but no, I will not mention his name--another man then stabbedhim behind, and we threw him into the pit. The Lord Hugh de Monthermerhad nothing to do with the deed. We used his name, because the personthat set us on wanted the charge to fall on him, and a letter waswritten, as if from him, asking the old Earl to see him alone, at theplace of the murder; but he never wrote it, or knew of it. I have neverseen him or spoken to him in my life, but only heard that morning thathe had escaped from prison. This has been read over to me now dying, atthe house of Sir Richard de Ashby; and I swear by the Holy Sacramentand all the Saints, that it is true, so help me God!"
It was signed, with a shaking hand, "Ingelram Dighton," and below werethe names of Kate Greenly and the priest, as witnesses.
The young Earl read and re-read it, and then looking upon his companionsomewhat sternly, he asked, "Why did you not produce this before?"
"For many reasons," replied Kate Greenly, calmly:--"first, because Ihad not the means. Do you suppose that the cruel and deceitful villaininto whose power I have fallen leaves me to roam whither I please? 'Tisbut when he is absent that I dare quit the house. In the next place,you were at Lindwell; and in the next, I wished, ere I brought forwardeven so much as this, to have the whole in my hands; to be able notonly to say, 'This man is innocent,' but also, 'That man is guilty!' Itell you, Earl, I would not now have told you what I have, but that youmust not risk your own life in a false quarrel, nor bring upon yourselfthe guilt of slaying another for deeds that he did not commit. Knowingas much as you do now know, it is your task and duty to sift thismatter to the bottom, and to discover the instigator of this murder;for he who now lies there, and his companions, were but tools. I amready a
nd willing to speak all I know, when the time and place isfitting. Yet you must be neither too quick nor too slow: for if you areslow, I shall not be here--my days are numbered, and are flying fast;and if you are hasty, the guilty one will escape you."
"And who is the guilty one?" demanded Alured de Ashby, bending hisbrows sternly upon her--"Who is the guilty one? Name him, girl, Iadjure thee--name him! Name him, if ever thou hast had the feelings ofa child towards a father!"
Kate gave a low cry, as if from corporeal pain, and then, shaking herhead mournfully, she said, "I have had the feelings of a child towardsa father, Earl of Ashby; and for the sake of your false cousin, I torethose feelings from my heart in spite of all the agony--for his sake, Ibrought disgrace upon that father's house--for his sake, I strewedashes upon a parent's head--for his sake, I poured coals of fire uponmy own; and how has he repaid me! But you ask me, who is the man? Iwill not be his accuser till all other means fail. I must not beaccuser and witness too. You have the clue in your hands; use it wiselyand firmly, and you will soon discover all you seek to know."
The Earl gazed in her face for a minute with a keen and searchingglance, then turned his look once more upon the corpse, took a step ortwo nearer, and examined the features attentively.
"Give me the lamp," he said; and taking it from her hand, he bent downhis own head, and seemed to scan every lineament, as if to fix them onhis mind for ever. But his thoughts were in reality turning to thepast, not the future; and raising himself to his full height again; headded, aloud, "I have seen that face before, though where I cannottell. The memory will return, however. How came he here?--Who broughthim here to die?"
"Those who took him hence to slay," answered Kate Greenly.
"Didst thou ever see him before that day?" demanded the Earl.
"Twice," was the reply.
"Hark! there is the curfew," exclaimed the Earl. "I must away."
"Stay till the priest comes!" cried Kate, eagerly. "He will be here erelong."
"I cannot," answered Alured de Ashby; "I am expected at the castle evennow. But fear not that I will forget this business. I will find out thetruth, even if I have to cut it from the hearts of those that wouldconceal it; and I will be calm, too--tranquil, and calm, and cautious."
"Go, then!" said Kate. "Yet tell me--But no, you will not dream ofit!--You have no thought of meeting in arms an innocent and blamelessman upon a false and unholy charge? Promise me--promise me!"
"I will make no promise!" answered the Earl. "You seem to feel somedeep interest in this Monthermer?"
"I never saw his face but twice!" replied Kate, solemnly. "I neverheard his voice but once--I have no interest in him; but, weak andfallen and disgraced as I am, I have still an interest in right andtruth! Neither would I see you fall before his lance--for fallassuredly you will, if you go forth to meet him! Nay, look not proud,Earl of Ashby, before a dying girl, who knows nought of these haughtystrifes, and can little tell whether you or he--if all wereequal--would bear away the prize of chivalry. But, I say, all is notequal between you; and if you meet Hugh de Monthermer, you fall beforehis lance as sure as you now live: for he is armoured in highinnocence, with a just quarrel, and an honest name to vindicate; youfight, weighed down with the consciousness of wrong upon your arm, afalse oath upon your lips, and doubt and discouragement at your heart!Were you twenty times the knight you are, that burden were enough tomake you fall before a peasant's staff! One thing, however, I have aright to demand: you shall give that paper to Prince Edward, fullytwelve hours before you go into the lists--this you must promise me todo, or I myself will go and cast myself--"
"I have no right to refuse," interrupted the Earl; "on my honour, as aknight, the Prince shall have the paper. Be you ready to prove that itis genuine?"
"I am ever ready," answered Kate; "and though I may shrink and quiver,like a wounded limb when a surgeon draws the arrow forth, yet I shallbe glad when each step of my bitter task is begun, and the time of restcomes nearer. If they wish to remove this body?"--she added, as theEarl walked towards the door,
"Let them do it," answered Alured--"let them do it--they shall bewatched!"
Thus saying, he left the room, and slowly descended the stairs, KateGreenly lighting him down to the bottom. He went thoughtfully andsadly, with a heart full of gloom, anxiety, and strife; but there werekindly parts in his character, too; and when he reached the bottomstep, he turned and looked once more in the face of his unhappycompanion. Then, taking her hand, he said, "Poor girl, I am sorry forthee! Can nought be done to save thee?"
"Nothing, my lord!" replied Kate Greenly, calmly; "I have but oneSaviour, and he is not of earth."
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